


A Gentle Man

by alcibiades



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcibiades/pseuds/alcibiades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Day once said to you, "You're such a gentle man." There was a split second after the words came out of her mouth that you almost, almost believed it could be true</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gentle Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mr-finch (soubriquet)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soubriquet/gifts).



Mary Day once said to you, "You're such a gentle man." There was a split second after the words came out of her mouth that you almost, _almost_ believed it could be true. An instant where you saw yourself through her eyes and imagined yourself an entirely different man. You saw yourself as the man she deserved.

John Luther is not a gentle man, in any permutation of the word. You know this about yourself; it was a lesson Zoe taught you, that no matter how hard you shut it up in a box and bury it deep inside of you, the monster of rage and fear and violence will always be there at your core. You can change your actions, but you can never stop the mechanism in your brain whose first reaction is to let that monster out. No matter how much you atone, you can't stop the urge. You will never stop it.

Alice Morgan doesn't want a gentle man. She once told you that she could see through you, that she knew exactly who you were beneath all the trappings of an orderly law-abiding citizen. You don't know if that's true - when she looks at you, you feel laid bare, but isn't it true that the need to stop yourself from doing more harm than good is as much a part of you as the part that wants to do the harm in the first place? 

Mary Day wanted a good man. Alice Morgan wants a bad one. You feel that you are somewhere in the middle, trapped, as you ever have been.

Her hands are small and soft and pale. They are not the hands of a killer, except that you know what they have done, and they are. It doesn't make you want to recoil when she touches you, not anymore. Her gaze is cold and direct, and as naked as it makes you feel, you can hold it now, look into her eyes and see what you were afraid to see before. All those years you thought that if you could change yourself, you could be happy, you could have what you deserved, what all ordinary people deserve.

You've since realized that you are not ordinary and never will be. It feels a bit like hubris thinking it, but then Alice Morgan never wanted someone ordinary.

Tangier is beautiful in the spring.


End file.
